


Goats, and Their Importance

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Multiple Orgasms, Political Marriage, Rimming, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, age gap, complicated feelings, half clothed sex, marriage ceremonies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: "I slaughtered a goat for you," the woman said. "For good luck, for the wedding.""For good luck," Taya echoed. "Why is it good luck?""You tell the goat your hopes for the marriage," said the woman. "It brings them up to the gods and the ancestors.""Doesn't seem very lucky to the goat," said Taya.
Relationships: Older Queen/Young Princess of Enemy Country She's Marrying to Seal the Peace Treaty, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 130
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Goats, and Their Importance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cartographies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartographies/gifts).



There was blood under the woman’s fingernails, when she held her hand out to Taya. It probably didn’t belong to anyone Taya knew - the peace talks had been going on for weeks at this point, and the last battle had been almost a year ago.

"I slaughtered a goat for you," the woman said. "For good luck, for the wedding." Her voice was pitched low, with just a hint of roughness, as if she did a lot of shouting. Her accent put emphasis on different syllables than Taya was used to, and she did some odd things with her vowels. 

"For good luck," Taya echoed. "Why is it good luck?" She didn't want to be here, standing in the courtyard with the barbarian she was going to marry the next day. 

This woman would have killed her a year ago, and now she was looking hopefully at Taya like an overeager puppy. The chaperone was shooting Taya the same look, and it was enough to make her sick. 

"You tell the goat your hopes for the marriage," said the woman. "It brings them up to the gods and the ancestors."

Her name was Yamat. Taya's mother had whispered it in her ear, right before the marriage had been announced. It would have been nice if Taya had been given some _inkling_ of this before she’d been stuffed into her best robes and shoved into the chamber. 

"Doesn't seem very lucky to the goat," said Taya, and she knew that she was being peevish, but didn't know if she wanted to stop. She put her hands behind her back to resist the urge to cross them over her chest, and she held on to her own fingers. 

"There will be other goats," Yamat promised. "After the wedding, when we go to my parents’ estate, you can see all of our goats." She smiled, and there was something wistful about her expression. "They have a special breed, with four horns instead of two, and spotted coats."

"Your parents’ estate," Taya echoed. She'd never left her parents’ island, and now she was going to be climbing onto some great ship, to sail to the land of her enemy.

_Former enemy_ , she chided herself, and the voice in her head sounded remarkably like her mother. _Ally, now_.

"It's very beautiful," said Yamat. "I look forward to showing it to you." She reached a hand out, and Taya stepped back. She didn't want to be touched by those bloody hands. 

"Thank you," Taya said stiffly, and she kept her hands behind her back, her fingernails digging into her own palms. "I... need to prepare." That was a flagrant lie - she'd come out here to get away from all the fussing, but the sight of that blood made her chest tight and her stomach heave. 

"I look forward to it," Yamat said, and now she was looking equally awkward. It was odd, to see a woman at least ten years older mirror Taya's own body language. "I'm going to be a good wife to you," she told Taya, all in a burst. "I will take care of you. I promise."

Taya turned around, and she walked across the flagstones, towards the entrance to the kitchens. She wasn't sure what sort of emotion was welling up in her chest, but she didn't like it.

* * *

"That was cruel of you," Ayelet, her chaperone, told her, while Taya stood on a stool and her mother's seamstresses fluttered around her like so many birds, fixing a ribbon here or adjusting a hem there. 

"What was cruel?" Taya's mother looked up from her book, her eyes narrowing.

"Yamat was trying to be friendly, and Taya rebuffed her," said Ayelet. "Not exactly the start of a happy marriage."

"She killed your brother," Taya reminded her mother. "How can we have a happy marriage, knowing that?"

"She didn't kill him," her mother said sharply. 

"She killed plenty of our people," Taya countered. "That's what their people do, even the royalty. They ride out and attack innocent people -"

"This whole feud started because your great-great-great grandfather killed her great-great grandfather," piped up Samara, one of the fosters from a nearby kingdom. She had only been living on the island for the past three years, and still didn't seem to grasp all of the nuances.

"Because he stole a boat and a whole herd of goats," said Taya, the familiar argument bubbling up in her throat. "And then she was talking about goats, and how she was going to show them to me when we went to her parents’ estate. They're probably descended from our goats!"

"Well," said Taya's mother, going back to her book, "now they're in the family, so it all comes around in the end, doesn't it?"

Taya groaned, and made to raise her arms, only to get a glare from the seamstress who was still adjusting her sleeves. "That's not the _point_.”

Her mother put the book down, and she glared at Taya. It was an impressive glare, too, and it put the seamstress' to shame. "What is the point, then?"

"The point," Taya said, "is that we shouldn't be placating her by marrying her, we should be seizing -"

"We _can't_ seize anything," Taya's mother cut in. "Her kingdom has faster, better ships. They have better land for farming, and they have a bigger army. We have been throwing ourselves against the wall of their strength for generations, and all it has gotten us is more dead." Her mother's eyes were over-bright, as if she was holding back tears. "I understand that your blood is up and hot, and that you want to go charging into battle, but it doesn't work like that."

"Well," Taya said, somewhat unsettled, "it should."

Her mother gave a wet chuckle, and she stood up. She walked towards the stool that Taya was standing on, the seamstresses parting like wheat in front of her. She put her hands on Taya's cheeks, and she pressed their foreheads together. "Many things are not the way they should be," she said, and her voice was very quiet, "but hopefully, you will be happy."

"Married to -" Taya started to say.

"Married to a woman who is known for being reasonable and fair, and kind to her subjects," her mother cut in. She kissed Taya on the forehead, and straightened the collar of her dress. "You're going to be a beautiful bride," she told Taya.

"She'll probably show up smeared in goat's blood," Taya grumbled. 

"Well, as long as she washes before the wedding night," said Samara. "Wouldn't want to get the sheets all dirty."

Taya flushed, blood beating in her cheeks all the way to her ears, and she tried to ignore the cackling all around her. She'd been trying not to think about that. 

“It’ll be fine,” said Ayelet. “You worry too much.”

"Easy for you to say," said Taya. "You're not the one marrying her."

"You're right," said Ayelet. "I'm not. More's the pity, she looks like she'd make a good wife."

"None of you have any -" Taya started to say, but was interrupted by her mother.

"If you're really this unhappy with it, we can call it off." Her mother's tone was firm, but she kept Taya's gaze.

There was a lot unsaid; _we'll have to negotiate for even longer, this might be seen as an insult, it may start the fighting up again._

Taya sighed. "I'll do it," she said. _I'm terrified_ , she didn't say. 

"Go in with an open mind," her mother said firmly. 

"I'll do my best," Taya said, because she couldn't think of anything else to say. 

At least, anything that wouldn't upset her mother even more.

* * *

Technically, there were going to be two weddings, one on the island with Taya's people, one on a boat with Yamat's. Maybe future weddings between the two cultures would find a way to combine the two

_Then again_ , thought Taya, holding on to the reins of the donkey she was riding, _it'll be hard to get the bones of the ancestors out to a boat, isn't it? I don't think they'd appreciate being moved._

Her knuckles were turning white, her nails digging into her palms. She was wearing a crown of flowers, and a garland had been placed around her neck, after her mother had helped her get dressed. She hadn't slept much the night before - _my last night sleeping by myself_ \- and then she'd been woken up to bathe and dress. 

And now here she was. In a wedding dress. On a donkey. 

_I wonder why we buried them in such an inconvenient place_ , Taya thought, making a point of not looking over the ledge. _Probably some mystical reason. Or our ancestors didn't want to put the dead where the good farmland was and the goats might get to them._

They were reaching the sacred place now, the crowd coming into view. She could even see her new wife, also in a white dress with red thread and flowers. It was odd, to see someone who was so clearly _not_ from the island dressed in their clothes. 

_At least she isn't covered in goat blood_ , thought Taya. Yamat was beaming when she caught sight of Taya, and it made Taya's stomach lurch. _Why is she always so happy to see me?_

Taya's father helped her off of the donkey, and she took his hand, her own sweaty and cold at the same time. The grass was very soft under her bare feet, and the red flowers lining the path to the altar were redder than blood. 

_I need to stop thinking about blood_ , Taya thought, as she made her way stiffly past the cairns, towards the altar. In the old days, they'd sacrificed enemies on it. _Maybe some of Yamat's ancestors had their blood mixed up in the soil._ She really needed to stop thinking about blood.

Yamat looked faintly awkward, in the white dress and the flowers. She had her hands tucked behind her back, as if she wasn't sure what to do with them, and she was standing so stiff that her back must have ached. Her dark hair was loose, instead of braided back, and the streaks of grey in it seemed to catch the light, like fish scales on the hands. 

Taya stood beside her, and she was so much _shorter_ than Yamat. When they were standing like this, her shoulder was only level with Yamat's bicep. 

The altar was an old stone laid across two other stones. There had been a spiral carved into it, years and years ago, and every couple of years Taya's father made vague plans to carve it deeper, only to get distracted by something more immediate. Usually a raid.

_What are we going to do with our time, now that we aren't being raided every year?_ Taya stole a glance over at Yamat, and saw the other woman looking down at the altar. She had her hands clasped in front of her now, and her knuckles were bulging from the strength of her gripway she was gripping her own hands. 

Taya was seized with an urge to reach out and take Yamat's hand, to squeeze her fingers. She squashed it down, and she looked coolly over at the priest, who was standing on the other side of the altar, looking faintly terrified. His family had lived in one of the settlements that were raided on a regular basis, and Yamat's people had killed his family. 

_I wonder how he feels, seeing her here_ , thought Taya, as the priest began to talk.

It was the standard wedding fare. Taya had been to enough weddings - even royal weddings, when her sister got married - to tune most of it out. She acted out almost mechanically - tossed the herbs into the fire, held her hand out to be tied to Yamat's, took a sip of the wine and looked into Yamat's eyes. She spoke the words, and Yamat spoke the words with her, and then the barbarian was bending down to kiss her.

Taya took the kiss with mute acceptance - it wasn't her first kiss, thankfully, or it would have been just another indignity of this whole mess. Their hands were still tied together, and the red ribbon ( _more_ red) was very bright against her skin. 

"I will be a good wife," Yamat whispered in Taya's ear, and Taya nodded jerkily. "Thank you," she said, because she didn't know what else to say. Should she promise to be a good wife as well? What did being a good wife even _mean_ , to a barbarian? 

_If she's your wife now, you should probably stop referring to her that way_ , whispered that voice in the back of her mind. She let Yamat take her hand, and she sighed, as the other woman's thumb rubbed across her knuckles. 

Taya kept their hands interlocked, staring out at her family, at Yamat’s people in their best silks and furs. _Would they have married us, if she wasn't known for being kind?_ The ribbon was very bright and very smooth against her hand. _What do my wife’s people think of all of this?_

"And now," said Taya's father, "to the feast!" 

There was a lot of cheering, which made sense - everyone loved a feast. It was a sign of the two kingdoms uniting, and the eons of peace that would follow.

Taya's stomach felt like it was full of live fish, wriggling to get away. Yamat was so _big_ , towering over her, and her grey eyes looked faintly worried, as she leaned down to whisper in Tayas' ear.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Taya said. Her tongue was very thick in her mouth. 

"We will follow you to the feast," Yamat said, and her voice came out smoother now, stronger. It wasn't the same faintly nervous tone that she'd been using with Taya, or the rough, joking one she'd had with her fellow soldiers, her advisors. "My wife wishes for us to commune with her ancestors, before we join you."

"Of course," said Taya's mother, although she was frowning, just a bit. That wasn't part of the tradition - the newlyweds would lead the rest of the procession to the hall for feasting, there would be dancing and drinking and general merrymaking. 

But now was a time for new traditions, and it wouldn't do for anyone to think they were balking at the fact that she was married. The peace treaty was still delicate enough that she probably couldn't risk being unhappy about her wedding. She owed it to her family, to her people. 

The ribbons holding their hands together were very carefully removed, the knot still intact, and placed in the special wooden box that was made for the occasion. It had been carved with the image of a goat, over an ocean wave, and Taya held it in her hands, so hard that her knuckles ached. 

The rest of the procession filed out. Ayelet paused, looking over at the two of them. "I'll be by the gate," she said, and Taya bit back a hysterical giggle. She was a married woman now. It wasn't as if she needed to be chaperoned, right?

Yamat leaned down, and she pressed her forehead against Taya's, nose to nose. Her long hair, grey and black, curtained the two of them, and it pattered around Taya's shoulders like rain. Her hands rested on Taya's shoulders, and her body was very warm against Taya's own. 

"I was scared the first time I got married," she told Taya, and her voice was very quiet. It resonated through her chest, and seemed to rumble against Taya's own, making her skin buzz. 

"The first time?" Taya frowned. The skin of her forehead wrinkled up against Yamat's, and Yamat sat up, smoothing her thumb over it. 

"This isn't my first marriage," she told Taya, and she looked briefly sad. "But," she said, and now she was clearly putting on a brave face. "I'd like it to be my last one."

* * *

The wedding feast went by in a whirl of sound and food. Taya sat at the big table beside Yamat (beside _her wife_ ) and she was given gifts. She ate in a daze, and let Yamat feed her little nibbles of food. She probably should have been feeding Yamat back, but it all felt so _strange_. Maybe the next feast (the one on Yamat's parents’ land) would be better. She'd perform better at being a wife.

She took the little morsels of pork or roasted carrot or honey cake, and she smiled at the people in front of them offering gifts, occasionally met her wife's eye and found herself blushing. Yamat, at least, seemed to be taking to it well. She joked with some of her fellows, and even managed to get a few jokes in with Taya's father's men at arms. If it had been anyone else's wedding, and Taya hadn't been the one sitting on the dais, she might have even enjoyed herself.

A memory flashed through her head - walking through a village burned to the ground, the roasted pork and cinders scent of burned bodies, the sound of her own footsteps as they threw up plumes of ash with every step she took. 

What had happened to the people who hadn't been lucky enough to die in the fire.

Taya's whole body froze up, and the food in her stomach rose. She must have looked stricken, because Yamat put a hand on her back, and leaned her head in, whispering in Taya's ear. 

"Are you alright?"

_Maybe she was one of the people who burned that village_ , thought some delirious part of Taya's mind. _Maybe she led the charge, maybe she was the one who -_

Taya forced her mind off of that track, and she looked over at Yamat. "I'm fine," she said, and maybe her voice was a little bit brusque, because Yamat bit her lip, and looked at her with a concerned expression. 

"Maybe you've had too much meat," said Yamat. "It can give you belly trouble."

"Maybe," Taya said, and her voice sounded distant in her own ears. She existed a little to the left of herself, for a little while. She ate her meal and she greeted the diplomats, the courtiers, the guardsmen, the sailors, the soldiers. She was a gracious host, to the best of her ability, and then the meal was over. 

The meal was over, and she was being ushered up the steps, towards the bedroom that had been arranged especially for her and Yamat. It was the top of the tower, and it was customary for royal newlyweds to spend their first nights together. Taya's older sister was said to have been conceived in that room, and now... Taya was going to have her wedding night there, too. She had come in here, when she was young, playing hide and seek. Stepping into the room lit by firelight, it seemed to have taken on a slightly terrifying cast. The furniture was bigger and left longer shadows in its wake, and everything seemed to be glaring at her, even though nothing had eyes. 

When the door closed behind them, Yamat took Taya's hands in her own. "You're shaking," Yamat said, and her voice was very quiet. 

"I'm sorry," Taya said, and her voice was shaking, too.

"Are you so afraid of me, then?" Yamat's tone was teasing. "I didn't think I was that terrifying, out of armor."

"Did you go on raiding parties?" Taya blurted out. 

That wasn't the right thing to say. This wasn't the time to talk about that sort of thing, and Yamat was _so much_ bigger than she was, so much more powerful. 

Yamat stilled, although she was still holding Taya's hands in her own. "I did, yes," she said. 

"Did you kill anyone?" Taya's tongue was too thick in her mouth. 

"I have killed people, but never in a raid," said Yamat. "I have stolen goats and wine before, but now we are at peace. Your goats are my goats, and my goats are your goats."

"Why did you kill them?" _She's only marrying me for my goats and my wine and my land, and so that we stop killing each other_. 

"Battles," said Yamat. "I have never killed someone on your land." She turned Taya's hand around, so that the palm was facing up, and she kissed it. Her lips were very dry and very soft. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No," said Taya. _I know people who have killed people. My parents have killed people. Father killed Uncle Torthan, when he tried to stage a coup. So why am I so scared?_

"Hopefully you never will," said Yamat. She kissed the inside of Taya's wrist, then a little lower, over the sleeve of her white dress.

Taya was shaking so hard she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. There was terror in the pit of her stomach, and something else, more complicated and new. She caught Yamat's eye, and then Yamat was kissing her mouth, tentative and delicate. 

It was a different sort of kiss than the first one - that one had barely lasted more than a second, and this one was long, deep. Yamat's tongue was gently probing at Taya's mouth, along the seam of her lips. Taya sighed, let her mouth drift open. She was clutching at Yamat's shoulders, and Yamat's hands had moved to her waist, pulling her closer. She was _warm_ , all over. 

Taya had some experience with kissing. She'd had the odd fumble, now and then, although never more than a few wet minutes behind a barn or in the shadows of the kitchen. It hadn't sent her whole body tingling like this, hadn't made her feel like she was _melting_ from the knees down. 

Yamat pulled back, and she looked down at Taya's face. Her eyes were very dark, and her hands were almost _soft_ on Taya's face. "Have you ever had anyone before?" Her thumbs seemed to fit perfectly into the soft spot just under Taya's cheekbones. 

Taya shook her head mutely. 

Yamat laughed, a low, deep chuckle. "I haven't had a virgin in my bed in a very long time," she said, and she kissed Taya again.

"I don't..." Taya said, and her voice was thick, her lips moving against Yamat's. "I will be a good wife," she said, because she wasn't sure what else to say.

_She never killed anyone on our land_ , Taya thought, as she was kissed again, and the hands in her hair were carefully pulling pins out, as it slowly tumbled down around her face, across her back. 

"I will be a good wife," Yamat agreed. She was slowly walking Taya towards the big bed, and then the backs of Taya's knees were hitting the bed, and she was sitting up, looking up at Yamat's face. 

_What does that mean, in a situation like this? How can I trust you?_ “Thank you,” said Taya, lacking anything else to say. 

"I want to make you happy," Yamat said, and her tone was so _sincere_ that it made Taya's chest seize up. 

"Why?" Taya blurted out. 

Yamat paused, and she frowned down at Taya. "What?"

"Why do you want to make me happy?" Taya asked. All of the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface seemed to be coming out of her now, spewing out of her mouth like an over boiling kettle. "Because I know that I'm not someone you'd want to marry, if you had a choice, and I know that you're only doing this because -"

Yamat put a hand over Taya's mouth. "Everything is history," she said, as if she was imparting some great wisdom.

Taya frowned, and one of Yamat's thumbs came to press down on the line between her eyebrows, then moving over, passing across Taya's eyebrow. "I don't know what that means," she said. 

"It means," said Yamat, "that with us getting married, our people will stop fighting. Your people killed my first wife, and my people killed your brother, and your people burned our farms, and our people burned your villages. And on. And on." She tucked a piece of hair behind Taya's ear. "My mother and my father were from warring kingdoms as well. And my father was afraid of my mother, for the first ten years of their marriage."

"Why?" Yamat's fingers were distracting, and Taya could see straight down the front of Yamat's dress, and _oh_ , that was a lot of breast on display. Not that Taya hadn't seen breasts before - she went to communal bath houses often enough - but... well. It was all about context.

Or something.

This was a very new context. A context she’d vaguely considered in the past, but… well. _Well_. 

Taya's head was spinning, as if she'd been drinking wine. She wanted to touch Yamat, she wanted to kiss Yamat, she wanted to run away, she wanted to hide under the bed until she could sort it all out in her head. 

"My mother was a terrifying woman," Yamat said, and she smiled. "I was a little afraid of her myself. She kept her battleaxe over the fireplace in her bedroom, and she would sometimes talk about how many heads she'd taken off with it. My father was a scholar, and he preferred his books to any battle."

"And they were from different kingdoms?" 

“Very much different kingdoms. They’d been fighting longer than our families have been.” Yamat let her fingers linger over the curve of Taya’s ear, down to her jaw. “And I promised myself, if I was ever in the same place, I’d do what they did. Because they made each other very happy, in the end, and they loved each other very much.”

Taya nodded. She was shaking harder now. 

"And history is history. What happened may have happened, but we are living now, and we must remember that." Yamat let go of Taya, and took a step back. "If you need more time -"

"I don't," Taya said, and now she stood up suddenly, because all of the anxiety was beginning to annoy her. She might have been a virgin, but she wasn't some blushing maiden from a song. She knew things. 

Yamat was looking down at her, and she made a surprised noise when Taya pressed closer to her, kissing her. It wasn't a very refined kiss, admittedly; she pressed her tongue into Yamat's mouth and groped at the front of Yamat's dress, and Yamat chuckled against her lips, vibrating along her teeth.

Taya pulled back, just enough so that she could speak. "I want to be a good wife," she told Yamat, and was faintly surprised to find that she meant it. "Show me how to please you." She paused. "Please." Was this a good idea? Yamat had been her enemy. Wasn’t anymore, but… still. 

Yamat outright laughed, and it was a deep, rich sound that sent ripples of heat right under Taya's skin, making her shiver. "Eager little thing," Yamat said, her tone fond. "Who am I to deny my new wife?"

* * *

"Put your mouth here," said Yamat, and she cupped her own breast, her thumb against the nipple. Her breasts were larger than Taya's, and softer. When Taya pressed a nervous little kiss to Yamat's hard nipple, the other woman sighed, and slumped back into the bed. 

"That's it, good girl," Yamat said, and her hands were in Taya's hair, as Taya opened her mouth wide and sucked. Yamat was getting stiff again, her belly flexing, her nails digging into Taya's scalp. "Yes, I like... that..." 

Taya nipped, gently, and Yamat moaned, her thighs spread and her fingers tugging tighter. There were little bites of pain when she pulled, but that just seemed to be feeding the heat building in Taya's belly. She'd felt something like this a few times, from kissing, from leaning too far forward while riding a horse. But this seemed to be so much _more_. 

Yamat's skin tasted like salt, and a little bit like the cinnamon oil she must have rubbed into it. Her breast was soft against Taya's cheek, and her nipple was hard against Taya's tongue.

"Like that. Little circles, yeah, just... mm..." Yamat hissed through her teeth, and one hand went to the back of Taya's head, holding her close.

Taya sucked, taking more of Yamat's breast into her mouth. She nipped, just hard enough to dimple the flesh, and Yamat gasped, her grip tightening in Taya's hair. Her thighs were spreading wider, and her hips were beginning to roll. "Good girl," she mumbled. "Good girl, Taya, you're being such a good girl."

_I feel like a horse_ , Taya thought, but she couldn't deny the little glow of pride in her chest. Her first time doing this sort of thing, and she was apparently doing it well. She switched sides, and swirled her tongue over the nipple before sucking it back into her mouth, as Yamat arched against her and swore in her own language. 

Time seemed to trickle away. At some point, Yamat pulled her up, and Taya was keenly aware of the fact that she was still fully dressed, while Yamat was naked. Was that strange? Yamat didn't seem to mind - she was grinding her hips forward, and her wetness was soaking into the fabric covering Taya's knee, slick as anything. They were kissing again, and it didn't feel strange to have Yamat's tongue in her mouth anymore, didn't even feel odd when Yamat's teeth sank into her lower lip. She let Yamat guide her hand down, until she was touching the slick stickiness, and Yamat was parting against her fingers. 

"Like... that, here," said Yamat, and Taya's finger pushed into slickness, and heat. "Yes, there." 

"Like that?" Taya moved her wrist carefully, and Yamat squeezed around her.

"Yes," Yamat said, and her voice had taken on a faintly breathless quality. She was sweating, and Taya could smell it, could smell the musky arousal coating her hand as she pressed against Yamat's vulva. "Another."

Taya slid another finger in, and she bit her lip, her eyes darting from Yamat's tight face to he own fingers, sliding amongst the slicked down hair and inside Yamat. 

"Another," Yamat said, and Taya paused. 

"Really?" She'd heard some of the maids talking about... this sort of thing in the past, but three? That seemed like a lot.

Yamat chuckled, and her cunt fluttered around Taya's fingers. It sent a shock of heat through Taya, and she pressed her own thighs together, shifting. _She wants this. She wants me._ "You've got tiny hands, dear one. Another."

Taya pressed a third finger in, and there was a bit of a stretch, but Yamat grunted, her back arching and her mouth falling open. She was panting now, her chest rising and falling, and a few strands of hair were sticking to her face. 

"Good girl," Yamat said, in a soothing tone of voice. "Curl your fingers, just - _yes_ , like that..." 

_She was my enemy a year ago,_ Taya thought as she curled her fingers inside of Yamat. _Now she's my wife. My wife, who I'm making love to, on my wedding night._ It didn't feel real. None of it felt real, except for the silky clasp of Yamat's interior muscles, and the sweat trickling down her own back. 

Taya's knuckles were stretching Yamat out, and she watched, entranced, as her wrist flexed, as she thrust in and out. She was pressing against Yamat's clit (she remembered the maids giggling over that word, and she'd looked it up in her father's library, her cheeks burning), and Yamat jerked against her again, then went rigid. She pulsed around Taya's fingers, whimpering like she was in pain. 

_She peaked, already?_ Taya wasn't sure why she was surprised. She knew that these types of things could vary, in theory. It was in the books she'd read. She _was_ wet, slimy against her thigh, soaking into her dress. 

"Another finger," Yamat gasped out. 

Taya didn't question this time. Her fingers were already starting to prune up from Yamat's arousal, and her pinky finger was still slick. She pressed it in alongside her other ones, snug as anything, and she slid all of her hand into Yamat, only her thumb free to rub Yamat's clit.

"Oh," Yamat moaned, and it was a low, deep sound. Taya fancied she could feel it in the soles of her feet, as she slowly moved her fingers. "Taya," she gasped, and went stiff again, trembling around Taya's fingers. Another peak, and this one seemed even more intense than the last, judging by the way Yamat was thrashing around on the bed. Taya’s fingers were beginning to get sore, but she was captivating about the wet sounds as she pushed her fingers in, and the way they were _still_ being clenched. 

"Another finger," Yamat said. "Please. Another."

"I'm out of fingers," Taya said, and she cleared her throat, suddenly inexplicably shy. "Unless you meant my thumb?"

"Yes," said Yamat. She propped herself up on her elbows, and she bunched her hand up, tucking her thumb up against her palm. "Like that." 

"Like that," Taya echoed, and she did as instructed. "Is this... I don't want to hurt you. On our wedding night." Then she realized some of the implications of that. "Or any other day," she added quickly. Why did she care? 

Yamat laughed again, and her breasts jiggled when she laughed, her breasts and the soft skin of her stomach. She took Taya's free hand, and she laced their fingers together, her thumb pressing into Taya's knuckles. "You are a sweet thing," she said. "And a good wife."

Taya wasn't sure why she was so flustered at that. She withdrew her fingers from inside of Yamat, and she tucked her thumb into her palm. "Are you _sure_?"

"I've had bigger hands than yours," Yamat assured her.

Taya wasn't sure if the heat that flared in her belly was jealousy or admiration, but she wasn't going to look at it too closely. She tucked her thumb into her palm, and she pressed the tips of her fingers back inside of Yamat. 

"Just like that," Yamat encouraged. "Slow. Slow and... yes..." Her breathing was getting more labored, as Taya pushed more of her hand inside. 

_It's lucky she's so wet, or this might be more difficult_ , Taya thought. There was a little bit of resistance, and then the bulge of her knuckles were pressing forward, and her hand was inside.

"Good girl," Yamat moaned. "Good girl, good girl, good - _oh_!" 

Taya's hand was _squeezed_ , as if by a great fist. Yamat trembled, her thighs tensing and releasing, then went completely slack. She gave a little half gasp when Taya's hand moved inside of her, and her hips twitched forward.

_I could hurt her_ , Taya thought, as she shifted her wrist, enough to make her knuckles brush against something sensitive inside of Yamat and make the other woman groan. _I could ruin the peace treaty, I could kill her right now._

Taya reached her free hand forward, carefully, and she ran her thumb over Yamat's clit. There was another contraction around her hand, and another, and Yamat was just writhing on the bed like a landed fish. She was sobbing, awkward, ugly sobbing, and Taya's own hips were rocking. She'd pressed her heel against her own cunt, and it wasn't doing much for her, but each little rock was sending a little shockwave down her spine. 

Yamat's face was ugly in its pleasure, open and honest as she rode out another peak. Her hips were jerking forward minutely, her toes curling in the sheets. She sighed when Taya's hand came to rest on her belly, and she covered it with her own. "Out, please," she said, her voice rough. "I... oh, darling." 

Taya carefully withdrew her hand. It was sticky, wrinkled, as if it had been submerged in water. She took a cautious lick, and found it sharp and dry, like a good wine. She caught Yamat watching her, and she flushed, looked at her own, still clothed lap.

"Come," said Yamat, and she was gesturing for Taya to come closer to her. 

Taya, unsure of what else to do, lay down beside Yamat, still fully clothed. They were almost nose to nose, and she could still smell Yamat's arousal, filling the room like smoke. She was shaking again, as Yamat pressed their foreheads together, and Yamat's nose was warm against her cheek. 

"You're very good with your hands," Yamat said, as her own hand passed along Taya's flank. "When I can feel my legs again, I'll return the favor." She grinned, and Taya could see a little chip on her front tooth, could count the freckles on her nose and trace the shadows of her eyelashes, which seemed to dance in the flickering firelight. 

"I don't think I could fit a whole hand inside of me," Taya said. "Especially not hands as big as yours." 

Yamat took Taya's hand in her own, palm to palm. The top joint of her fingers covered Taya's easily. She had callouses across her palms, and they were rough against Taya's own - her only calluses were on her fingers, from all the writing she did. 

"I'll be gentle with you," Yamat said, and she propped herself up on her elbow. She kissed Taya, and the kiss was so sweet that it was making her toes curl, and then somehow Yamat was on top of her, straddling her thighs. 

_This dress will need to be washed_ , Taya thought dazedly, as Yamat's wet cunt brushed across the skirts. She shivered, as Yamat's big hand cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple. There wasn't any blood under her fingernails this time, but she was wearing that same hopeful expression. _Was she gentle, when she held her sword? No, this is not the time for that._

Taya reached out for her wife (not her enemy, she had to remember, her _wife_ ), taking Yamat's face in her hands. She craned her neck awkwardly to kiss Yamat, and she sighed, as Yamat's tongue stroked against hers and Yamat's hand moved down her side, skimming across the white fabric of the dress.

"When we're married again tomorrow," Yamat said, when they'd broken the kiss, "you're going to wear blue. A blue dress, the color of the ocean, and you're going to be so beautiful. More beautiful." She scooted back, until she was sitting between Taya's knees, and then she was drawing the skirt of Taya's dress up, and the air was cool on her thighs, cooler on her wet vulva. 

“I…” Taya started to say, and then she didn’t say anything, because Yamat was kissing up the insides of her thighs, her hair ticklish. 

“You?” Yamat was flat on her belly, shoulders pushing Taya’s legs further apart as she licked further. When had that happened? Taya would have noticed, surely? She had her hands in Yamat’s hair, and it was slightly wiry under her hands, but soft. Thicker than Taya’s. Her mouth was very hot and very wet, and her breath was humid across Taya’s cunt. 

“Me,” Taya said, her tongue thick in her mouth, and then she gasped. Yamat’s own tongue was sliding along her, pausing to swirl over her clit, and then the older woman made a desperate noise and pulled Taya closer by the hips, her arms under Taya’s thighs. She pulled Taya’s knees onto her shoulders, and she buried her whole face into Taya’s cunt.

Taya couldn’t really keep track of what it was that Yamat was doing. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere, wet and hot and _flexible_ , in ways that Taya wasn’t even sure she understood, except that the pleasure seemed to be rippling through her, or maybe moving like a wave. 

_It was all a lot clearer in the stories_ , Taya thought dazedly, and then she didn’t think anything, except that Yamat’s thumb was on her clit and Yamat’s tongue was inside of her, wriggling. She reached her peak, and then she was shuddering through it, her cunt pulsing around Yamat’s tongue. Then Yamat’s _finger_ was sliding inside of her, and that burned a little bit, the stretch unfamiliar, but Yamat’s mouth was on her clit again, sucking.

_She could hurt me right now_ , thought some detached part of Taya’s mind. _She could incapacitate me forever, she could ruin me, she could call the whole peace treaty off and take over the land, all her soldiers are here, ours aren’t ready for a fight, they’re probably drunk, but she isn’t, and I don’t think she will._ Why was she thinking of that now, as her wife’s fingers (fingers? When had another come into play?) curled inside of her. 

Taya gave herself to the pleasure, as Yamat’s tongue moved lower, and then her _arse_ was being licked, and that was… odd, to say the least, but what did Taya know? She didn’t know about pleasure, she didn’t know about lovemaking, and her wife was from strange and distant lands, where they did things oddly.

… Well, not that distant. About two days by ship, all told. 

Still.

Taya lost track of how many times she was wracked with pleasure, how many times she was left twitching and gasping. She ended up losing her dress, at some point, and then Yamat was sucking on her nipples, murmuring over her “perfect little tits” which would have been embarrassing, except two of Yamat’s fingers were buried in her cunt, Yamat’s thumb circling her clit. Her arse clenched around nothing (what would it be like, to be penetrated there?) and someone was making a lot of embarrassing, needy noises.

Oh.

Wait. 

That was her. 

“You’ve got one more, sweet one,” Yamat said, and she was kissing along Taya’s throat, nibbling along the tendon. “I can feel it, gathered up. Give it to me.” 

“Please,” Taya whimpered. “Please, please, please…” 

“Sh,” Yamat whispered. “Almost there, almost…” She pressed down on Taya’s clit and bit down on her throat in the same motion, and Taya wailed as her whole body seized up. The pulse that seemed to rage through her took over her whole mind, starting from her cunt and working its way out, until she was as wrung out as a washcloth. She lay there panting, as Yamat nuzzled into her temple, sweat starting to cool on her body.

Yamat cuddled her close, and Taya curled up, letting Yamat’s bigger body press against her back, Yamat’s chin against her shoulder. 

“I have a confession to make,” Yamat whispered in her ear. 

“Mmm?” Taya knew, intellectually, that she probably needed to get up and drink some water, maybe take a piss. This much closeness with another person usually set her skin on edge. 

Somehow, it wasn’t bothering her right now. Even Yamat’s breath on her neck was soothing instead of irritating.

“I lied to you earlier,” said Yamat. 

_What would she lie about?_ Taya wondered, still caught up in the sleepy haze of arousal, & then her body seemed to catch up with her brain, She went as stiff as a board, terror dropping over her like a bucket of ice water. _She lied about killing people on our land, she lied about forgiving us, she lied about -_

“The goats on my parent’s land? The ones I told you about, I mean.” Yamat’s fingers were gently stroking along Taya’s side. “Spotted hides, multiple horns?”

“Yes?” Taya’s voice was stiff, and rough. She really needed to drink that water. 

“They’re not goats. They’re sheep.” Yamat sounded faintly embarrassed. 

Taya blinked. “What?” 

“They’re sheep,” said Yamat. “There’s a whole story, about how we got them, and why they look like that. But…” She cleared her throat. “We were talking about goats, and I didn’t want to change the subject because I thought that would look odd, and you already seemed like you were mad at me, so…” She trailed off.

Taya giggled. She couldn’t help herself. She rolled onto her other side, so that she was looking into Yamat’s face, and she pressed her forehead against the other woman’s. “I forgive you,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if it was for the lie about the sheep, or for… something else. 

It would probably take some time for her to figure it out. For the first time since she’d agreed to the marriage, she felt something like anticipation.

**Author's Note:**

> The goats that are actually sheep are a real breed - they're called Jacob's sheep!


End file.
